


Contrast

by WitchyBee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (Except Maybe Kinda To Leo), Canon Disabled Character, Carl Manfred & Markus Parent-Child Relationship, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Family Issues, Friendship, Gen, Good Parent Carl Manfred, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Light Angst, Loneliness, Painting, Permanent Injury, Pre-Canon, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-07 04:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15900684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyBee/pseuds/WitchyBee
Summary: It may seem like an odd friendship. The young scientific genius who transformed the world with his creations, and the elderly artist who believed he had nothing left to offer the world.But they have a great deal in common.They also have a lot to learn from one another, too.





	1. Chapter 1

Carl had a vague idea who Elijah Kamski was. After all, you couldn’t turn on a television these days without seeing the man who put Detroit back on the map. CyberLife was a name on everyone’s lips, the fastest growing company in the world.

Androids were rapidly becoming commonplace. They were soldiers in the brewing third world war, they made up a significant percentage of the workforce, and now you could even bring them into your home for personal use. "Get Yours Today!" and all that. Carl never saw much point in trying to fight progress, which hadn’t changed with age, but he wasn’t eager to purchase an android of his own either. It just didn’t sit right with him.

It seemed wrong to own a machine that looked and behaved so damn human.

So Kamski was everywhere, but Carl didn’t give him much thought until, in the spring of 2026, the young CEO expressed an interest in buying several of Carl’s paintings.

Carl didn’t get into art for the money. However, there was still Leo's future to think about. While he knew that setting up a college fund would never make up for his inconsistent presence in his only son’s life, it was all he felt he could do.

Normally sales would be handled by the gallery, but Kamski had requested to meet with the artist personally and he was curious enough to oblige. So there they were now in Carl’s warm, sun-drenched studio. Kamski took it all in like a kid in the chocolate factory.

“Remarkable,” he breathed. “You know, I have been an admirer of your work for a long time, Mr. Manfred.”

Carl snorted in amusement. “No offense, Dr. Kamski, but it’s hard for me to imagine you doing anything for a long time.”

He laughed. A surprised, genuine sound. And that...might have been a smile. Maybe Carl didn’t just talk himself out of thousands of dollars.

“No Ph.D. yet, I’m afraid. The world of academia doesn’t suit me. Such a lack of vision. But you, Mr. Manfred, have it in spades. You see the world as it truly is, as it could be, and you breathe life into it. I think we are quite alike in that way.”

“Well, thank you. You ever try painting?”

“No,” he replied, a bit sheepish. “What I do is probably more akin to sculpting clay.”

“Care to indulge an old man? I promise I won’t sell it on eBay or anything. Just curious how you’d work with a new medium.”

“Very well,” the young man agreed, and spent the next hour carefully applying brushstrokes, deep in concentration. When he stepped back from the canvas, he looked like a kid seeking his art teacher’s approval.

Of course, his execution was rough, unpracticed, but not the worst Carl had seen from an amateur. Good perspective. The subject surprised him given that Kamski spent all of his time around machines; it was clearly a garden at the height of summer. Bright red roses climbed a trellis in the foreground, surrounded by impressions of vibrant green flora and a calm, clear lake. It felt serene. It felt safe.

“It’s beautiful. Your garden?” Carl ventured.

Kamski considered it for a moment. “Yes, I suppose it is. But it’s your work we’re here to discuss, Mr. Manfred. Shall we?”

“Of course. And enough with the Mr. Manfred stuff, all right? It makes me feel old. Just call me Carl.”

“Then please call me Elijah.”

 

–

>   
>  May 10, 2026 9:14am
> 
> From: ekamski@cyberlife.com
> 
> Subject: Thank You
> 
> Carl,
> 
> It was truly an honor to meet you. Thank you again for inviting me into your studio, and for the paintings; they have brought some much-needed color to my home. I hope we can keep in touch and meet again soon.
> 
> Regards,
> 
> Elijah Kamski
> 
> Founder/CEO, CyberLife Inc.  
> 

–

>   
>  May 10, 2026 11:27am
> 
> From: contact@carlmanfred.com
> 
> Subject: Re: Thank You
> 
> Elijah,
> 
> It was very nice meeting you too. I’m glad my paintings have a good home. By the way, no one appreciates art less than the art world, but I really did like your garden painting. I put it right on the fridge next to my son’s report card.
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Carl  
> 

–

 

Their email exchange continued periodically for the next year. Carl complained, mostly, about his day or the recent headlines. They shared a certain cynicism toward the world. Elijah enjoyed waxing philosophical about pretty much anything, but he was more reserved when it came to his personal life. He spoke fondly of his assistant, Chloe, and sometimes alluded to a mentor.

He eventually got the impression that, while he’d never admit it, Elijah was rather lonely.

And, if he’s really honest with himself, maybe Carl was lonely too. He had never settled down with anyone, not since things fell apart with Elizabeth shortly after Leo was born. His son had become a man now with his own life, and one day his own family. Leo would be going off to college soon to pursue his ambitions, leaving Carl all alone in that big house with nothing but his paintbrushes.

Perhaps that was why, in late February 2027, when Carl received a typically cryptic email from Elijah (at half past three in the goddamn morning) asking that he come to CyberLife Tower as soon as possible, he did pay the younger man a visit.

CyberLife Tower was an impressive, albeit very phallic, structure. Built like a fortress and protected like one as well. The incredibly tight security seemed excessive at first, however, it sometimes slipped his mind that Elijah was one of the most influential men in the country, both celebrated and despised in equal measure. Androids had reshaped the way Americans lived and, more alarmingly, cost a lot of humans their jobs. Carl imagined there were many people out there who wanted his friend dead.

After being escorted to the top floor by an armed guard, Carl was shown to the desk of Elijah’s android receptionist.

“Good morning, sir,” she said politely. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, I’m not sure actually. My name’s Carl Manfred.”

She smiled. “Of course. Elijah is expecting you. Just through that door.”

“Thank you.” Carl turned to leave, but then something occurred to him and he had to ask, “Sorry, but your name wouldn’t happen to be Chloe, would it?” he asked.

“Yes,” the android replied, slightly confused but determined to be pleasant nonetheless. “I don’t think we’ve met before. Perhaps you know another RT600? It is a popular model.”

“Elijah’s told me a lot about you, that’s all.”

“Likewise.”

“Well, guess I shouldn’t keep the ‘greatest mind of this century’ waiting, huh?”

Elijah’s spacious office was cold and featureless, like the rest of CyberLife Tower. Just pristine white walls, a few chairs, and a computer with (for some reason Carl couldn’t fathom) three monitors. At least a large triangular window let in some sunlight and afforded an amazing view of the city below.

“Y’know, you could really use some artwork in here,” Carl said lightly.

“Yes,” Elijah agreed, rising from his desk. “Thank you for coming, Carl. There’s something I want to show you. Sit down, please.”

Up close, he noticed that Elijah looked tired. Probably been working too hard. But before he could mention it, Carl’s attention was drawn to the computer screens. One monitor was switched off, another displayed some ridiculously complex code, but the last one– Wait. Those roses, though far more detailed and almost photorealistic, were unmistakably the same. He saw them every day.

“It’s your garden, isn’t it?”

Elijah nodded. “The latest version, yes. It’s a side project I’ve been developing for several years now. And there’s more. Amanda?”

At his word, an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman appeared on the monitor.

“Hello, Carl,” she greeted.

“Uh, hello,” he managed. “Can she...hear me?”

“Of course I can,” Amanda answered. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

‘Yeah... You too.”

“I realize this AI may initially appear less advanced than, say, Chloe, for example,” Elijah explained, clearly proud of his creation. “It has no physical form. It exists within CyberLife’s systems. To you and I, it’s just an image on a screen, but an android could enter the zen garden program and interface with Amanda directly. There are numerous potential applications.”

“Okay. Sounds pretty useful. But, why’d you want me to meet her?”

That was, it seemed, the wrong question to ask. For a moment, Elijah didn’t just seem exhausted and overworked, he looked…lost. Somber.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Amanda did.

“The human who inspired my design, Professor Amanda Stern, passed away last night. A pity. She was–”

“My mentor,” Elijah finished for her, abruptly turning off the screen. He sighed. “I apologize. Amanda was programmed to, much like its namesake, disapprove of anything that does not benefit CyberLife.”

Like mourning, apparently. Or spending time with a friend.

Sometimes Carl forgot that, despite all his brilliance and renown, Elijah was still just a kid, really. He was twenty-five years old, for God’s sake. He’d given his life to this company and now some callous ghost in his computer had the nerve to imply he wasn’t doing enough for it?

“Elijah, I–“

“How about a tour of our android manufacturing facilities?” Elijah suggested with a smile, slipping back into the role of the charming CyberLife CEO.

At least Chloe seemed nice, Carl thought, wondering if the only meaningful human interactions Elijah ever had were their emails and infrequent visits. Maybe someday Carl would just be a ghost on a computer screen, too.

“Sounds great,” he said.

 

–

 

Over the next year, Elijah’s emails became shorter and more sporadic. CyberLife was doing very well according to Channel 16’s business analyst, generating billions in profits, so he tried not to worry too much about the shift in communication.

Besides, Carl had more pressing worries these days. Worries such as his son, who contacted him even less than Elijah did and, apparently, had dropped out of college without warning or explanation. Comforting himself with the thought that Leo knew his door was always open, Carl hid away in his studio. He had no idea how to help Leo, or if he even needed help.

So when his doorbell rang and Carl answered it only to find Elijah standing there with an expensive-looking bottle of champagne in hand, he wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. In the end, he settled for mild concern.

“Hello, Carl. May I come in?”

“Uh...sure. Why are you here? Sorry, that’s not – I just wasn’t expecting...”

“A retirement celebration,” Elijah said as he stepped inside. Carl shut the door and followed him into the kitchen, brows furrowed.

“Wasn’t aware I’d retired.”

“My retirement,” he clarified, opening the champagne. “I left CyberLife. Resigned from my position as CEO. Or, more accurately, I was ‘encouraged to step down’ on account of strategic differences.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means the shareholders have no vision at all. They have no concept of what we could accomplish. Humans are driven by fear and greed, so shortsighted.”

“You’re still one of us, y'know, but I’ll drink to that.”

“A toast then,” Elijah declared. “To humanity’s faults, and to the future.”

Their glasses clinked together and Carl took a sip. While he was more of a scotch man himself, the champagne was undeniably excellent.

“So, no more CyberLife. That's a big adjustment. What are you gonna do now?”

“There are several projects I intend to pursue with my newfound free time,” Elijah said, like he was doing an interview. “I might also learn to paint.”

“Enigmatic as ever,” Carl sighed. “Sometimes I think the tabloids are true and you actually are an android.”

“You sound like Chloe.”

“How is she?”

“'She’?”

Carl shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right saying 'it’.”

“It’s a machine. A technological marvel, but still a machine.”

“So are humans. What’s the difference, anyway? Free will? Maybe it's all just programming. Doesn't mean it should matter any less.”

“Fascinating,” Elijah whispered, as if to himself, and Carl swore he could practically see the gears turning in his big brain.

As an artist, he recognized inspiration when he saw it.

He just didn’t know exactly what that spark in his friend’s eyes meant.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I kind of hate this chapter but oh well. Next chapter: Elijah gives Carl a present.

Carl remembered the sudden tightness in his chest.

He remembered losing his balance on the ladder, his paintbrush clattering to the floor.

He didn’t remember the actual fall, though. Must have hit his head. There was no pain, not at first, probably due to shock. He lay there unable to move for what could’ve been hours or days and thought: _So this is it._

But it wasn’t.

Carl awoke in a hospital bed. The lights were dimmed, but he could hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor. He could feel the IV in his arm, too, and closed his eyes again, wanting to just let the morphine do its job and not think for a few more moments about where he was or why.

“Are you awake, Carl?”

No such luck.

Opening his eyes, he glanced toward the direction of the voice and saw a woman sitting patiently in a chair beside his bed. Too young to be Elizabeth. Too perfect to be human. In fact, he recognized her. The whole world probably knew her face.

“...Chloe?”

The android smiled. “Hello. It’s good to see you again. How do you feel?”

“Pretty terrible. Where’s Elijah?”

“Visiting hours ended and the staff would not permit him to stay longer," she explained. "Elijah did not want you to wake up alone, so I remained here. I am likely to be mistaken for your personal android.”

Logical. Elijah had little regard for other humans, especially since he left CyberLife and withdrew from the world, so it was nice to be counted as an exception. Let it never be said that he wasn’t a loyal friend.

An android nurse came in to check Carl’s vitals, completely ignoring Chloe’s presence. Then, about ten minutes later, a doctor finally stopped by to explain the situation. Carl had apparently suffered a mild cardiac event (more tests were needed) which caused him to fall, severely damaging his spinal cord. Again, more tests were needed, but he could tell the prognosis wasn’t good.

The doctors didn’t exactly come right out and say that he would never walk again, that life as he knew it was over. They didn’t have to. Carl understood what they all meant by managing his expectations.

 

–

 

“So… is there anything you can–”

Elijah shook his head. “I’m sorry, Carl.”

Of course not. Elijah wasn’t really a god. He wasn’t even a doctor.

 

–

 

Carl would spend the next ten days in the hospital, after which he was discharged to a rehabilitation facility since his house wasn’t yet ready to accomodate–

Well, a wheelchair.

...Goddamn it.

Carl wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet. He dedicated himself to his goal of getting home and living independently again with the single-minded focus of an android. Or, maybe, of the androids’ creator.

The real trouble started when he finally did go home.

With nothing to distract him, hopelessness began to wear away at his mind. He started to isolate himself, ignoring Elijah’s emails and Elizabeth’s calls. No word from Leo since before the accident. Last time he'd seen his son, Leo had clearly been strung out on that Red Ice crap, asking for money that Carl wouldn't give. They had argued until Leo stormed off. Hopefully, he was okay, wherever he was now. But all that was another problem he couldn’t handle on top of everything else, which only added to the guilt that consumed him. He was spiraling deeper and deeper into despair.

And contrary to popular belief, the pain did nothing to increase his creativity. In fact, he’d stopped painting altogether.

His routine boiled down to:

>   
>  Wake up
> 
> Eat
> 
> Take medication
> 
> Physical therapy, when he actually bothered to go
> 
> Drink
> 
> Sleep
> 
> Repeat  
> 

What was the point of continuing on like this until his weak heart gave out? His son didn’t need him anymore; he'd basically failed as a father. Carl's paintings were worth far more than he ever would be and now he had nothing of substance left to give the art world. These thoughts were not new, honestly, but they became more persistent after the accident.

However, Carl greatly underestimated the determination of Elijah who, after weeks of unanswered emails, showed up on his doorstep and simply refused to leave.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Carl grumbled.

“Not at all. As you know, I have an overabundance of both wealth and time.”

“Bored, huh? You got tired of your android harem, so you decided to bother me instead. At least I have good reason to be a recluse.”

“I am worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I don't need your help. I'm not a busted machine for you to fix. And I can take care of myself just fine."

“Then I sincerely wish you would. You’re stronger than this, Carl. I know you are.”

“You’re not always right, y'know," he sighed. "Just get out of here, okay? I’m tired.”

A tense silence followed. Elijah was thinking. Planning something, more likely. He was quite accustomed to getting his way and, though Carl did not understand his friend’s motivations at the time, Elijah just wasn’t willing to lose anyone else if he could help it.

“Very well,” he said. “But I won’t give up on you that easily.”

And, for what it was worth, Carl believed him.


End file.
